Grey, Green and Blue
by browngirlwriter
Summary: Abby/Townsend fic. Story, not a one-shot. Starts in GG4 and we'll see where it goes from there.
1. Chapter 1

The bells in the doorway tinkled, signalling the arrival of a stranger. Edward Townsend was sitting on his favourite table in the corner of the dimly-lit cafe, reading a newspaper, when a swish of oh- so-familiar brown hair just in front of the door caught his attention. He folded his newspaper and placed it nonchalantly on the table as she walked over to him, and looked up, only to be met with the steely gaze of one very hacked off Cameron sister.

"Abigail darling, what can I do for you?" he said as she sat down, her eyes a storm.

"Don't you darling me Townsend. You know perfectly well why I'm here."

"Ah yes, I did think you'd pay me a visit once you'd heard. You always did like to cause a scene," he said, smirking at the scowl on her face.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at? Why has my sister been detained at Langley?" Her eyes were that intense green, piercing through his walls.

"Now now Abigail, you know how this works. Besides, I didn't think you'd miss her much, considering how much you used to badmouth her- "

"Is this all just some big joke to you?" she almost shouted, drawing the eyes of a young couple on a nearby table. "In case you haven't noticed Townsend, I'm in no mood for games."

"Neither am I," he said, his voice sharp. "You know how seriously I take my work. Rachel will be fine; she's just being questioned that's all. Standard procedure." He watched her relax ever so slightly and stood up, gesturing towards the door. "Perhaps we should finish the conversation elsewhere."

She followed him reluctantly, and they walked in silence for a while, the cold winter's air slowly eating through their clothes. Abby pulled her thin cardigan tighter, and Edward glanced at her, exasperation evident on his face. "Typical. You come to England during the winter and don't even bother packing a decent sweater."

"Excuse me if my mind was on other things," she bit back, kicking a loose stone into the murky river. She paused, her expression becoming more distance. "I've been…it's just all been such a mess," she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

He stopped and turned to face her, studying her properly for the first time since she'd walked through the cafe door. He could immediately tell something was different - she'd changed so much and he kicked himself mentally for not even noticing it. She looked thinner, less youthful than he remembered and her eyes, although still that brilliant green, had an edge of weariness in them. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her gaze upwards and and spoke softly. "Don't worry about it Abby. I'll find Joe Solomon before he hurts your niece and I'll make sure he pays for what he's done."

She broke his grip and dropped her gaze to the ground again. "You don't get it do you," she said, her voice scarily quiet. "It's not just Joe. _They're_ after Cammie and _they_ won't stop until they've got her."

He knew instantly she was referencing the Circle, and he sighed, running his hands through his wavy, dark hair. "Abby…" he began, but trailed off when he realised he didn't know what to say. He hadn't seen this side of her before, the scared, vulnerable side and he missed the loud, obstinate Abby, the one that bickered with him constantly and made him want to pull out his own hair with frustration. How to comfort her, he was none the wiser and so he touched her hand, drawing her attention back to him. There were unshed tears in her eyes, and suddenly they were spilling out of her at an alarming rate, so he pulled her into a hug, basking in her warmth as her fingers clutched tightly onto the back of his jacket. "It'll be okay," he murmured a bit pathetically, cringing as he said it.

She pulled back and looked at him and although her eyes were red from crying and her hair tousled from the wind, he was reminded of how beautiful she was. She wiped the tears off her face using her sleeve and took a step back, suddenly aware of how close they were to one another.

"Well I better go," she said, her voice slightly stronger. "I have to go get Cammie and take her back to school." He nodded, reality drawing him back as he remembered the huge pile of work he had sitting his office and that it, chasing down Solomon and the Circle, had only really started. "I'll see you soon, I guess," she said, beginning to walk away.

"Abigail," he found himself saying. She turned round, her expression curious. "Be safe," he said, a shadow of warning in his tone.

"Careful Townsend," she smirked slightly. "People will start to think you care."

And with that, she disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

This extract uses speech from GG4, which belongs to the wonderful Ally Carter. The rest is mine. Enjoy!

It was all a bit of a blur to him, really. One minute he had been doing a routine inspection of the Morgan girl's room, hoping to get in a few quiet words with her and the next he was on the floor, his nose bloody and beginning to swell. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a petite girl with long, blonde hair edging towards a panic button and shaking his head, he said, "Now I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She froze and then looked towards her roommates, trying to decide what to do. "A strange man is in our room, Liz. Push it!" commanded a strong voice from the right.

Just great, Edward thought. The Baxter girl again. He was just thinking about how to handle the situation when he heard a soft "No," come from the doorway. He turned and found himself staring into green-blue eyes of Cammie Morgan.

"That's right," he murmured, his voice even. He almost smiled, thinking of how much she looked like her aunt at that precise moment. "I'm not a stranger. Am I, Miss Morgan?"

The three girls just stared at Cammie with a confused expression on their faces and he took that as his cue to leave, not wanting to risk another suitcase being thrown his way. He thought about Cammie on his hurried walk back to his quarters, and what the Circle wanted with an (almost) normal teenage girl. What did Solomon mean when he told her to 'follow the pigeons'? He had flown halfway across the world to be here, hoping to find answers, and yet why did it feel as if he was back at square one?

...

He was arguing with Rachel in the middle of the hallway and yet he felt more alive than he had in months. He'd finally captured Joe Solomon.

"You had no right to take my daughter out of my school -" she said coldly.

"Your school?" He raised his eyebrows and looked her once over. What it it about these Cameron women that makes them so bloody difficult?

He saw her eyes blaze with anger and realised that maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. He'd known Rachel briefly and having grown accustomed to her sweet personality he'd forgotten that, like her sister, she could be deadly.

"My daughter is not some pawn to be used on a whim!" she almost shouted.

"Now, Rachel, don't think of her as a pawn," he said, his voice smooth. "It's more like . . . what is it you Americans say . . . we dangled an apple out in front of Joe Solomon and -"

"The term is carrot," she bit back. "And it doesn't apply to teenage girls."

"Oh, is it? Maybe you use apples for something else?" he murmured, looking at Cammie standing defensively behind her mother. He thought back to that day he'd woken up feeling like he'd just had the worst hangover in history with only snitches of the conversation that had taken place earlier in his mind.

It wasn't until he looked back at Rachel that he saw something else besides anger in her eyes: fear. "We had thirty agents in the park's interior and another sixty on the perimeter grid," he said, his voice quieter and more solemn. "We had eyes on her the whole time. We knew Solomon would show himself and as soon as he did, our agents were on him. She was fine." Leaning closer to Rachel, close enough to smell her perfume, he laughed. "Ms. Morgan, we got him!"

"If you even put a student in danger again -"

"Oh, I thought you Gallagher Girls were immune to danger." The bitterness was back in his voice. He thought of Abby, the scars she no doubt had after being shot and shuddered ever so slightly.

It wasn't until after he'd returned to his room later that night that he dared to think about her again. He took his phone from the bedside table and dialled the number, heart hammering in his chest.

"What do you want Townsend?" she asked straight away.

"Did it scar?" He asked the question before he could stop himself.

"What are you talking about - "

"Don't do this Abigail," he said quietly, his deep voice rippling with emotion. "You know."

She was silent for a while and he wondered what she was doing before he called, where she was, if she was ok. He had so many questions and yet that was the one he had asked.

"Edward," she started but trailed off, unsure. "Yes it did," she answered eventually.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. It wasn't until a minute later that he hung up, and for the first time in ages, wished it would all just go away. He wished he wasn't a spy, that he didn't have all the complexities that came with being one on top of all the complexities of life. He wished he could just erase his pain, and erase her's, erase it all.

But he couldn't. So he sat down on his bed and stared at the wall, the high from capturing Solomon long gone, and put his head between his hands.


End file.
